So, I found out that my brother died this morning. It was hilarious.
A while back my older brother, Schmott, decided to quit Facebook. So he deleted his account. This was just a few days before he and his family went on vacation to San Francisco. His wife and two sons are still on Facebook and they documented the trip by posting photos of the trip: Alcatraz, a couple of beach shots, Ghirardelli Square, etc.
None of the photos that they posted had Schmott in them--well one may have, but his back was turned so you couldn't really tell.
His wife posted things like "on a trip with my boys" (which could be interpreted as sons, not necessarily sons and husband), but never mentioned Schmott by name. In fact, Lady Buffington and I wondered aloud if Schmott had stayed home (or if, perhaps, he had died).
This morning at about 7:15 AM, as I was walking into work I got notification of a message. I opened it. It said:
Hi Wilson (names have been changed). Not sure if you remember me, but I was friends w/Schmott in high school. I didn't know who to ask about this and then I noticed you were friends w/my brother on here. I heard that Schmott passed away, but I couldn't find his obituary, so I wanted to confirm that with you. If so, I am really sorry for your loss. He was a great man and one of those friends I will always remember!
I laughed, because it wasn't true. Was it? WAS it?
So, I ran to my office and called Schmott. It rang and rang and went to voicemail. I left a message. Then, I called my mom. It rang and rang and went to voicemail. Was she dead too? WAS she?
Then I realized that I had just learned of my brother's death on Facebook. And, as we all know, that is a crappy way to find out about things like that. And, to add insult to injury, my mom had died at some point too.
Saddened, I started my day. Waiting for the phone call that would confirm the tragic events of that morning.
Then, the phone rang. Trembling, I answered, "hello?"
The voice of my deceased brother from the other end of the connection spoke in wavering tones, "Riiiiiiick, IIIIIIII aaaaaaam deaeaeaeaed"*
"Speak apparition," I replied. He spoke. We exchanged pleasantries. We hung up and went about our days--me at work; him, I assume, into the next life.
Rest in Peace Schmenneth Schmott Schmurdock
*I had the choice to write it deeeeeeead or deaaaaaaaad, I didn't like either so I went with deaeaeaeaeaeaed to indicate no change in the vowel sound as you draw it out.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Thursday, July 5, 2012
I'm Sensing a Theme
Today is my younger sister Schmana's birthday. She and I spent many an hour over our 3.5 and 3.7 respective decades singing old 80's theme songs. And so, in her honor I have posted a few 80's theme songs. Also, I move that we all begin to declare our age by how many decades we are.
Keeping with the theme of wonder:
and, while I'm at it:
I know it's from the 70's mostly, but it has the word wonder in it. It still counts because I remember going over the Schmister's and watching that show and all the girls sang "Wonder Woman" and Schmadam Schmister had to sing the verse and didn't know the words, and it was funny, and I said to myself, "I will never forget this moment," and just to prove that I haven't forgotten, I added the clip.
And, because sometimes the world looks perfect on the wings of one's dream:
Here's a horrible recording of a show we hated and never watched:
But, it leads nicely to this:
Now that you've watched that thirty times, back to themes:
Did you ever think forever was the best you could do? I'm not sure what the hell that means, but no, I didn't either. I guess it just goes to show that life is more than mere survival, so go ahead, dropkick your jacket:
Did you know that Jif is peanuttier? Now you do.
Happy Birthday, Sis! Here's to watching your slow, drawn-out demise over the next 3.5 decades.
-Rick
Keeping with the theme of wonder:
and, while I'm at it:
I know it's from the 70's mostly, but it has the word wonder in it. It still counts because I remember going over the Schmister's and watching that show and all the girls sang "Wonder Woman" and Schmadam Schmister had to sing the verse and didn't know the words, and it was funny, and I said to myself, "I will never forget this moment," and just to prove that I haven't forgotten, I added the clip.
And, because sometimes the world looks perfect on the wings of one's dream:
Here's a horrible recording of a show we hated and never watched:
But, it leads nicely to this:
Now that you've watched that thirty times, back to themes:
Did you ever think forever was the best you could do? I'm not sure what the hell that means, but no, I didn't either. I guess it just goes to show that life is more than mere survival, so go ahead, dropkick your jacket:
Did you know that Jif is peanuttier? Now you do.
Happy Birthday, Sis! Here's to watching your slow, drawn-out demise over the next 3.5 decades.
-Rick
Friday, June 29, 2012
Getting to the Bottom of it
A few weeks ago my two-year-old son, Cubby (names have been changed), was sitting with me at church when he dropped a piece of whatever cereal he was eating. The cereal piece rolled down my right side and back behind me on the pew.
Cubby quickly reached back there, grabbed the cereal and ate it before I could stop him (of course, he's the fourth kid, and who stops the fourth kid from eating whatever he wants to eat? Not me. All of the energy that went into that practice was used up on kid #1).
Anyway, the reaching behind me to get the cereal had sparked a question in the lad.
He asked, pointing to my backside, "Dad, is that your bum?"
As a Mormon, I am trained to not talk about bums at church (unless we're talking about changing diapers), so I ignored his question.
So, he asked again, "Dad, is that your bum?" This time he asked a little more emphatically.
I, still feeling the need to ignore the topic, said, "shhh."
Being shushed aggravated the boy, he just wanted an answer to a simple question. "IS THAT YOUR BUUUUUM!?!?!" He screamed. I'm not sure if this is accurate or not, but in my mind the speaker stopped speaking and the entire congregation turned, I guess, interested to see if THAT was indeed my bum.
I did the only thing I could do. I leaned down and into his ear whispered, "Yes. That is my bum."
Satisfied, he went back to eating his cereal.
Cubby quickly reached back there, grabbed the cereal and ate it before I could stop him (of course, he's the fourth kid, and who stops the fourth kid from eating whatever he wants to eat? Not me. All of the energy that went into that practice was used up on kid #1).
Anyway, the reaching behind me to get the cereal had sparked a question in the lad.
He asked, pointing to my backside, "Dad, is that your bum?"
As a Mormon, I am trained to not talk about bums at church (unless we're talking about changing diapers), so I ignored his question.
So, he asked again, "Dad, is that your bum?" This time he asked a little more emphatically.
I, still feeling the need to ignore the topic, said, "shhh."
Being shushed aggravated the boy, he just wanted an answer to a simple question. "IS THAT YOUR BUUUUUM!?!?!" He screamed. I'm not sure if this is accurate or not, but in my mind the speaker stopped speaking and the entire congregation turned, I guess, interested to see if THAT was indeed my bum.
I did the only thing I could do. I leaned down and into his ear whispered, "Yes. That is my bum."
Satisfied, he went back to eating his cereal.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
We Need a Hero
Superhero name
The Clapper
Secret identity name
Marcus J. Connecticut
Place of origin
Clappington Heights, Kansas, USA
Super skills
Supersonic Clap, Subatomic Clap, Uber Zeitgeist Clap, Clapalanche (or “Slow Clap”) Instigation, Scuba certified
Vulnerabilities/Weaknesses
Hand injuries, Awkward silences, Applause meters, Applause meteors
Brief description of your best superhero moment
Once, a guy gave a really good speech--a triumph-of-the-human-spirit-type speech--and everyone listening was completely silent. So, I stood up (we were on the bleachers in the student section) and started my first clapalanche. Slowly, with purpose, I clapped once, then twice, then three times. Picking up speed I clapped again and again the flesh of my palms slapping forth the great crack of the human clap. Others joined me. The noise grew out of nothing, building in crescendo until it crashed like great waves of sound. We applauded. We applauded like no group of humans had applauded before. All because of my gift and that guy's speech.
Superhero picture
\
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Different Things to Different People, That's What.
Hi,
It's no secret that my Mom's side of the family, the Schmalleys, are legion. No, I'm not saying that they are demons that should be cast into swine and drown in the sea (but, if the shoe fits). What I mean is that there are a ton of them. Grandpa and Grandma Schmalley had ten kids(!) and each of those kids had 7.5 kids of their own. And so on, and so on.
If you do the math correctly, you will discover that I have 74 first cousins on that side of my family. If you do the math incorrectly, there is no telling what you'll come up with, but unless you are really bad at math it will probably be close to 75. This figure does not count the 120 first cousins once removed, or any of their spouses (although it's possible that some of them are married to each other). Like I said, LEGION.
So, when I was a kid we'd go to family reunions where every family would have to write words to the song "Happiness Is." You may not be familiar with this song. I only know it from the Schmalley reunions--it's not on youtube or I would post it. Come to think of it, I actually have no idea if my memory of the song is in the least bit accurate. Don't worry, accuracy has never been a strong point of this particular blog.
Anyway, each of the ten families would have to rewrite the words to the song in order to explain what happiness was to each of that family's family members. For example, and I'm just making this up:
"To Tommy, it's a punch in the gut; to Susan, it's a slap on the butt;
to Mikey, it's the booze that he drank, to Devin it's a night in the 'tank'."
So on and so forth.
Then, at some point during the reunion, we'd have to get up and sing the song as a family in front of all the other miserable families who also had to do it too...as well. (Grandma made us do it; she was never tried for her crimes).
Each of us systematically had our personalities boiled down to one item of happiness that had to rhyme with one of our sibling's items of happiness. And, of course, the family reunion would slog on and on, the same melody ringing through the air. I don't know what Hell is like, but I may know the soundtrack.
Here is a version that my family may have sung at one point:
"Happiness is (cha, cha, cha), happiness is (cha, cha, cha)
different things to different people, that's what happiness is.
For Schmoland, it is fresh mustache wax, for Schmargaret it's the phrase 'battle axe,'
For Schmim Scrubs, the color maroon, for Schmobert it's the act of 'buffoon.'
For Schmathie Jaffra spatulas and cards, for Schmobin it's a night with the Bard,
For Schmon it is metal-band hair, for Schmrian it's his pink underwear (he'll show it to you ... or else).
For Schmotty it's a ball of some kind, for Skicky (one of my actual nicknames) it's his tiny behind.
For Schmana it's the end of our song..."
You'd awkwardly end when you were out of children to name.
I had never noticed until this moment that my parents has given us all S names.
Here's to happiness.
Here is a TED talk on happiness. I like it. Enjoy.
It's no secret that my Mom's side of the family, the Schmalleys, are legion. No, I'm not saying that they are demons that should be cast into swine and drown in the sea (but, if the shoe fits). What I mean is that there are a ton of them. Grandpa and Grandma Schmalley had ten kids(!) and each of those kids had 7.5 kids of their own. And so on, and so on.
If you do the math correctly, you will discover that I have 74 first cousins on that side of my family. If you do the math incorrectly, there is no telling what you'll come up with, but unless you are really bad at math it will probably be close to 75. This figure does not count the 120 first cousins once removed, or any of their spouses (although it's possible that some of them are married to each other). Like I said, LEGION.
So, when I was a kid we'd go to family reunions where every family would have to write words to the song "Happiness Is." You may not be familiar with this song. I only know it from the Schmalley reunions--it's not on youtube or I would post it. Come to think of it, I actually have no idea if my memory of the song is in the least bit accurate. Don't worry, accuracy has never been a strong point of this particular blog.
Anyway, each of the ten families would have to rewrite the words to the song in order to explain what happiness was to each of that family's family members. For example, and I'm just making this up:
"To Tommy, it's a punch in the gut; to Susan, it's a slap on the butt;
to Mikey, it's the booze that he drank, to Devin it's a night in the 'tank'."
So on and so forth.
Then, at some point during the reunion, we'd have to get up and sing the song as a family in front of all the other miserable families who also had to do it too...as well. (Grandma made us do it; she was never tried for her crimes).
Each of us systematically had our personalities boiled down to one item of happiness that had to rhyme with one of our sibling's items of happiness. And, of course, the family reunion would slog on and on, the same melody ringing through the air. I don't know what Hell is like, but I may know the soundtrack.
Here is a version that my family may have sung at one point:
"Happiness is (cha, cha, cha), happiness is (cha, cha, cha)
different things to different people, that's what happiness is.
For Schmoland, it is fresh mustache wax, for Schmargaret it's the phrase 'battle axe,'
For Schmim Scrubs, the color maroon, for Schmobert it's the act of 'buffoon.'
For Schmathie Jaffra spatulas and cards, for Schmobin it's a night with the Bard,
For Schmon it is metal-band hair, for Schmrian it's his pink underwear (he'll show it to you ... or else).
For Schmotty it's a ball of some kind, for Skicky (one of my actual nicknames) it's his tiny behind.
For Schmana it's the end of our song..."
You'd awkwardly end when you were out of children to name.
I had never noticed until this moment that my parents has given us all S names.
Here's to happiness.
Here is a TED talk on happiness. I like it. Enjoy.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Naming Names
A few months ago, I wrote a post making fun of Newt Gingrich's name. My little hit piece seemed to move public opinion because within a couple of weeks of my post, Newt was no longer a serious contender for the Presidency. In the spirit of fairness, there are some other names I would like to make fun of now.
Mitt Romney
Mitt Romney was born during the seventh inning stretch of a Detroit Tigers game. His father used his new-born son to catch a home-run ball in the top of the eighth. Some guy in the stands said, "Nice mitt you got there!" George Romney looked at his boy and said, "Yes, yes he is a nice mitt." Even now when Mitt Romney catches a base ball he'll follow it up with a ba ba.
George Romney was an impressive guy who found great success by overcoming difficult obstacles. One of his obstacles was dyslexia. He actually wanted to name Mitt, Tim, but he filled out the birth certificate request incorrectly. If Mitt's name had stayed Tim, and if "Tim Romney" were to be elected to the office of President, he would be only the second person named Tim to hold that office. The first was Abraham Lincoln.
Mitt Romney's first name, Mitt, is actually an acronym. It stands for Massachusetts Institute of Technology Technology, and is pronounced "em eye tee tee?" The answer to that is, "yes you are. Very tee tee in deed."
Barack Obama
Barack Obama's first name is Kenyan for "place where I store my lamb sounds" -- a rack for your bahs, if you will.
You may not have known this, but Obama's last name is a contraction of "Oh, Alabama," which is what people say when they are chiding the state and/or the band.
Fans of Oprah and the University of Alabama call themselves OBamas.
Joe Biden
Biden is actually a contraction of a longer two-word last name: Bin Laden. Biden's great grandfather removed the n(space)La. Can you imagine if Joe's Great Grandpa had kept that name, the campaign posters in 2008 and 2012 would have read, "Obama Bin Laden."
Barney Frank
Massachusetts representative, Barney Frank, has considered changing his name to Frank Barney.
Tony Blair
The former British PM changed his name to Tony from Natalie Jo Tuti Blair.
Chris Christie
The New Jersey governor's full name is Christie Chris Chris Christie. On a related note, Kris Kristofferson's middle name is Tofferson.
Benjamin Netanyahu
The Prime Minister of Israel came into prominence in the 1990's when everyone called the internet the "net," and conducted web searches on Yahoo.
Tim Pawlenty The former governor of Minnesota and would-be third POTUS named Tim (after Abe and Mitt), is part of the wealthy candy-making family behind the 1930's treat Good 'n Pawlenty. His last name is derived from the family trait of lending a hand, and also of their referring to hands as paws. Another famous Tim, Tim Duncan, was given his last name when it was discovered what he would do for a living--make doughnuts.
The End.
Mitt Romney
Mitt Romney was born during the seventh inning stretch of a Detroit Tigers game. His father used his new-born son to catch a home-run ball in the top of the eighth. Some guy in the stands said, "Nice mitt you got there!" George Romney looked at his boy and said, "Yes, yes he is a nice mitt." Even now when Mitt Romney catches a base ball he'll follow it up with a ba ba.
George Romney was an impressive guy who found great success by overcoming difficult obstacles. One of his obstacles was dyslexia. He actually wanted to name Mitt, Tim, but he filled out the birth certificate request incorrectly. If Mitt's name had stayed Tim, and if "Tim Romney" were to be elected to the office of President, he would be only the second person named Tim to hold that office. The first was Abraham Lincoln.
Mitt Romney's first name, Mitt, is actually an acronym. It stands for Massachusetts Institute of Technology Technology, and is pronounced "em eye tee tee?" The answer to that is, "yes you are. Very tee tee in deed."
Barack Obama
Barack Obama's first name is Kenyan for "place where I store my lamb sounds" -- a rack for your bahs, if you will.
You may not have known this, but Obama's last name is a contraction of "Oh, Alabama," which is what people say when they are chiding the state and/or the band.
Fans of Oprah and the University of Alabama call themselves OBamas.
Joe Biden
Biden is actually a contraction of a longer two-word last name: Bin Laden. Biden's great grandfather removed the n(space)La. Can you imagine if Joe's Great Grandpa had kept that name, the campaign posters in 2008 and 2012 would have read, "Obama Bin Laden."
Barney Frank
Massachusetts representative, Barney Frank, has considered changing his name to Frank Barney.
Tony Blair
The former British PM changed his name to Tony from Natalie Jo Tuti Blair.
Chris Christie
The New Jersey governor's full name is Christie Chris Chris Christie. On a related note, Kris Kristofferson's middle name is Tofferson.
Benjamin Netanyahu
The Prime Minister of Israel came into prominence in the 1990's when everyone called the internet the "net," and conducted web searches on Yahoo.
Tim Pawlenty The former governor of Minnesota and would-be third POTUS named Tim (after Abe and Mitt), is part of the wealthy candy-making family behind the 1930's treat Good 'n Pawlenty. His last name is derived from the family trait of lending a hand, and also of their referring to hands as paws. Another famous Tim, Tim Duncan, was given his last name when it was discovered what he would do for a living--make doughnuts.
The End.
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